Note in Berkeley

Created: 2013-03-15 23:24 Updated: 2013-03-16 04:37 Notebook: Love, Inshallah
As I watched my mother's last breath, I saw the final oxygenated memories of my father fade from my reflection.  Her eyes were like glass.  the mirror was gone.  and I saw the beginning of my own life through her frame.  The fibers of my muscles, my tissue, my heart.  If there was ever a question of whether or not I was still on that island, it had been destroyed by the tidal wave of her death.

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